


plummet as i sing (oh, bring me back to you)

by princepixel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Abstract, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Established Relationship, Existential Crisis, Existentialism, Mental Health Issues, Open to Interpretation, Poetic, implied markhyuck, lowkey mental breakdown, mild blood mention, renjun centric, sort of a vent/artsy experimentation, very slight suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:53:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princepixel/pseuds/princepixel
Summary: he lifts a hand above his head and watches it melt into the sky. the world is silent, holding its breath. they're waiting.distantly, he hears two voices call for him.renjun doesn't know where he is.





	plummet as i sing (oh, bring me back to you)

**Author's Note:**

> wwwwwwww hi its 4:15 am and i have a makeup AP exam tomorrow whoops
> 
>  
> 
> i wrote this really late at night when i was feeling weird so it got sort of out of hand ?? i dunno. i held off posting it for a while bc i felt like it was too odd and personal but hey why not yknow! life is short
> 
> also yes part of the title is from isle of flightless birds by twenty one pilots bc apparently im stuck in 2015

inhale.

 

  
the city slumbers under the crushing velvet of night.

 

crisp winds weave and dive through the night, branches bending and twisting to honor their passing by. gentle rain kisses the ground and then slithers away into rain gutters to lie and fester. despite the hour, a few birds chatter secrets and trade scandals in the secrecy of the night. the thick woolen blanket settles over the air.  
  
“isn’t it wonderful,” says renjun to no one in particular, sitting cross legged on the edge, “how the world just stops turning?”  
  
it doesn’t, of course. everyone would be dead.  
  
the void blinks back at him, one, two,

 

(go on, complete the trio.)

 

three.

  
“here in the night—“ renjun brings one hand up, fingers curling into his palm, “the witching hour, as they say.”  
  
as the sun sinks and the monsters rise, shadows looming and dark shapes darting in the corner of your vision. the alarm clock numbers glow green and angry.  
  
renjun isn’t quite sure where he is.  
  
“the air seems to stop. the world lays quiet, as if it’s waiting for the boom.”  
  
like the anticipation between lightning strike and thunder. the eye of the storm.  
  
“a beautiful view.” the voice floats to him on a sea breeze. “what are you doing up?”  
  
renjun hums.  
  
he doesn't need to turn to see the dark figure slouching against the wall. jeno always did have terrible posture.  
  
the city lays spread beneath the rooftop, warm lights twinkling in the inky black. if renjun reaches out, he can scoop it into his palm, the image of the city rippling like skipping stones on a lake surface.  
  
“see, those lights,” renjun stands, wobbling, “each of those is a person,” his gaze travels slowly across the city expanse under his fingertips, hand drifting back and forth, until—  
  
“there.” a light flickers out.  
  
there is silence. the birds will not sing for him.  
  
renjun thinks he may be underwater.  
  
“we don’t know them, we’ll never know them. each one of those lights is their own life with their own worries and joys, and each one of those lights will go out. they’ll all be gone.”  
  
and none of it _matters_ .  
  
renjun wipes the blood from his mouth.  
  
  
  
“we’re all so caught up in this or that, but what’s the point? we all— we all define purpose differently but none of us know what—“  
  
his ears are ringing. it sounds like bells.  
  
“the wind blows and we feel cold. we put on a jacket. why do we run? why do we run? why do we run from those feelings? someday we will be facing nothingness and all we will wish for is to feel the chill again.”  
  
the trees bend. there is a crack, somewhere below.  
  
he must be underwater. he can’t breathe.  
  
“there is so much out there, and none of us know. none of us care. why doesn’t anyone care, jaemin?”  
  
the night lays still. they have no answer for him.

 

behind him, jaemin is silent.

 

renjun wipes the blood staining his palms.

  
“it’s so beautiful when the world is like this. tranquil. waiting. it’s so beautiful, and so, so _pointless_ .”  
  
his ears are ringing. it sounds like bells. it sounds like someone's laughter.  
  
renjun isn’t sure where he is.  
  
the pinpricks of light glow ever brighter, mix into one swirling mass blend up above the horizon and crash upon him like a wave and he can’t see, he can’t see there is nothing but black dots over his vision, bugs are swarming him his lungs are buzzing, they’ve glued his jaw shut and he can’t breathe he can’t cry out, someone is screaming someone is screaming—  
  
he wobbles.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
and there is silence, blessedly.  
  
“isn’t it lovely when the animals all quiet down?” it’s like they know something.  
  
they say animals know to desert an area right before a volcano erupts.

_leave me_

  
the world has stopped warping, the trees have stopped bleeding into the blood red sky, the clouds have stopped melting, the paint on the walls have stopped peeling and the railing beneath his feet is no longer a tightrope intangible, but renjun is still shivering.  
  
intangible.  
  
_love me_

 

“we are all ghosts.”  
  
the voice speaking is foreign, but he is alone.

 

“whispers of people. nothing more. that’s all this is. an echo.”

 

he doesn’t know where he is.  
  
“renjun, please get down from the railing.”  
  
phantom arms circle his waist in a plea. renjun winces, the voice bounces off the walls and sounds all too loud, and yet so devastatingly far away. he can't see. are those lights the people or the stars?  
  
up is down and down is up or maybe a little bit of left and renjun is so, so scared.  
  
someone is still screaming. someone is still laughing.  
  
his ears are ringing.

 

pause?

 

reverse.

 

play.

 

  
renjun is almost sure he knows where he is.  
  
he floats off the edge. onto which side, he isn't sure.

  
dawn is breaking.  
  
renjun drifts, the two sets of arms around his waist his paperweights.  
  
let’s get you down from there, hm?  
  
fingertips, light and airy, skate down his back. they dust over his cheeks, and if he looks too hard they are thin, almost translucent, sickly veins glittering in the moonlight.

  
two different hands cup his cheeks, differing in size and callousness but eerily similar in the gentleness of their touch, their love a mirror of themselves and renjun can almost, almost see himself in it.  
  
almost—there's a crack in the middle, splintering the image off like a warped funhouse mirror.  
  
_lies lies lies lies lies_  
  
renjun looks into the mirror and sees a faceless, expressionless man peer back at him. he looks down, and then back. the night flickers, stops, rewinds. the face looking back is a perfect marble statue, features carved in anguish.  
  
the moon looks on in interest. the wind carries the gossip of far away stars. they’re talking about him. it’s probably about the bugs.  
  
it’s probably about the ringing.  
  
jaemin’s laugh always did sound melodious like bells.  
  
the two sets of hands brush down each cheek, fingertips kissing the skin reddened from the cruel gusts. winter is approaching.  
  
“come back to us, jun.”  
  
jeno.  
  
“we need you here, baby.”  
  
jaemin.  
  
he can taste the salt in the air.

two pairs of bright eyes plead with him.

  
the moonlight cuts through him as if he was never there, existence so light and fleeting and insignificant it barely makes a dent in the air around him. even light avoids him, bending out of the way.  
  
renjun is a man made of shadow. of negative space.  
  
renjun is the invisible dark matter webbing the galaxies between his fingers, never proven, only speculated, only observed through the broken, damaged space around him.  
  
renjun is a black hole. nothing that enters can return.  
  
he’s lost himself long ago.  
  
“come back.”  
  
the two sets of arms are around his waist again, he can feel the affection wispy on the sea breeze.  
  
he loves them too.  
  
they would never let him fall.  
  
“of course.”

for them, anything.

  
the glow of the rising sun peeks between his fingertips. the light pools in his palm, thick and warm and honey-like, sticking between his toes and drizzling from his eyelashes.  
  
no matter how many times he slips, they will always catch him.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
.  
  
  
donghyuck gently, cautiously, moves the billowing red curtain aside, clipping it back into place. cold air creeps into the room. he startles, seeing all the windows open and balcony door thrown wide. the wind is howling.  
  
his heart sinks at the figure sitting cross legged on the cool balcony floor, back facing the room, cupping his face between his two hands.  
  
donghyuck carefully slinks away from the room, easing the door shut and drawing out his cell phone.  
  
distractedly, he punches a few buttons and cranes his neck back to peer through the small window cut into the door. from far away, he can see the silhouette turn to the left, gaunt side profile illuminated in the pale light, small smile gracing his lips, blood between his fingers.  
  
donghyuck blinks, and the blood is gone. the smile is, too, but the murmuring continues.  
  
the dial tone echos in the empty hallway.  
  
click.  
  
“hello?”

 

  
“mark, he’s talking to himself again.”  
  
  


 

 

 

 

exhale.

**Author's Note:**

> this is what u get when u take both AP english language n composition and a class on existentialism lmao
> 
> gbhbgh i hope that wasnt too bad! this was basically just an experiment in this sort of abstract style n i wanted to focus more on atmosphere and emotion so lemme know what u all think !!! it would mean a lot <3
> 
> oh and i have another norenmin fic in the works! im working on chapter three and im going to start posting it soon-- it'll be much lighter than this lmao dont worry
> 
>  
> 
> twitter: pixeljunnie  
> curiouscat: pixinoa  
> tellonym: diotima

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [everything i am (is a mirror)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689037) by [pinkwinwin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwinwin/pseuds/pinkwinwin)




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